


Mightier than a Sword

by rabbitheartbeats



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Original Character(s), word vomit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-07-05 00:06:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabbitheartbeats/pseuds/rabbitheartbeats
Summary: Running a free company is all fun and games until one of your members gets accused of regicide.The Warrior of Light's free company copes with the fact that one of their number is a pretty big deal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Quills - as far as I know - are not an actual in-game free company.  
> This is something I wrote up when I was bored and then was that comment about: MAYBE YOUR FRIENDS ALL COINCIDENTALLY WENT ON A FISHING TRIP IN THE RUBY SEA. HOW CONVENIENT.  
> The names were all obtained through the FFXIV random name generator and I picked ones I liked. The Warrior of Light's name is (sort of) my in game name.

When the news that the Scions of the Seventh Dawn are wanted by the Crystal Braves and the Brass Blades for murder reaches them their first reaction is one of disbelief.  
Their second is fully exemplified by Cece after dragging one of the sketchier looking Blades into a dark alley to be interrogated at gunpoint.

“What in the seven hells?!” Cece yells as she shoves her handgonne in the Brass Blade’s face. “SHE’S ACCUSED OF WHAT?!”

“Cee please,” Malena places a placating hand on the Lalafell’s shoulder though her eyes are hard and angry as she looks at the terrified man. It's not the man's fault that he's given them some of the worst news they've had since the whole 'Bahamut was imprisoned within Dalamud and the second moon just exploded' at Carteneau.

“Mal’s got a point,” Loetstymm says, eyes just as fierce as the conjurer’s. “We’re no help to them if we all get arrested. String him up and split. We’re leaving.” he snaps as he storms out of the alley not checking to see if the others are following his instructions.

It’s not the first time his crew has had to beat a hasty exit from a town. Though not for something as huge as regicide. 

It’s not exactly a secret that the one they call the eikon slayer is a part of their small adventurer company, and from there it’s not hard to say that the Quills are associated with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn to some extent. 

Loetstymm curses colourfully under his breath as he makes his way through the streets of Ul’dah. Most make way for the armoured Roegadyn as he heads towards the Quicksand, and those that don’t are promptly shoved aside. Angry protests are promptly beaten off with a pointed glare from a rust-haired Lalafell with a very large gun, and a glance at the large axe on the very large green Sea Wolf's back.  
Disgruntled adventurer parties were not ones to cross in Ul'dah.

The lass had said she was invited to a tea party with the Sultana before the summit. What in the seven hells happened? 

Irrelevant. Not the issue at this time.

Where would the Scions go? They can’t stay in Ul’dah for sure. Horizon was probably being raided and the Rising Stones were likely not the wisest place to head but what else could they do? T’Chev would have a much better idea, but the bastard had disappeared a bell or two ago. The jackass had said he was looking into something about the Crystal Braves. 

“Randal,” Loetstymm breathes out harshly as he activates the free company linkpearl. “Randal you bastard, I need you to get Sela and...”

“Cap’n please. Do you have any idea how long it took me to-”

“Shut up and listen to me Randal!” he snaps at the likely drunk paladin angrily. “The Scions have been accused of murder and all of Ul’dah is after their heads.”  
That seems to sober the man up instantly. “Get Sela, get the girl and get out?”

“We don’t know where she is,” he sighs. “She’s ditched the linkpearl. Head to the Rising Stones, we’ll regroup and-”

“Mor Dhona’s out, the Braves are in on this,” a familiar drawl interjects over the aether connection.

“T’chev you furry bastard where the hell have you been?!” Loetstymm snarls angrily.

“The General’s been taken into custody by the Crystal Braves and Teledji’s dead. I don’t know the exact details but the other city states are pretty much out of the question.” the Mi’qote states, not answering the question at all, which was frankly just typical of him. “Moxi has taken off with what’s left of the Scions.”

“What do you mean what’s left?!” Cece all but screeches.

“Shit’s gone sideways, alright?” T’Chev snaps angrily and he sounds like his nerves are just as frayed as Loetstymm’s own. “What’s the name of that cute Ishgardian knight that’s mooning after Mox?”

“Lord Haurchefant?” supplies Randal.

“Send word to him - Ishgard owes Moxi and us for that Steps of Faith job. Just don’t let him hide her in his chambers even if he suggests it,” T’chev adds in jokingly, but he sounds almost as nervous as he did at Carteneau.  
Loetstymm figures it’s a sound enough plan. Not the worst one they’ve ever had, in fact it sounds like one of the better ones. 

“Anyone who’s got the stamina, port to Dragonhead and I don’t care how but get their attention.” he sends out company wide as he pushes into the Quicksand rooms they had booked for the night. Randal and Sela are thankfully present and all packed up. 

“Not all of us can just up and disappear to Ishgard Cap’n. Looks downright suspicious. If the Scions ‘ave cleared out, they’ll probably go after us.” Cece points out her voice angry and Loetstymm can almost feel the heat of her glare.

“Ishgard has just started opening up to adventurers. They’re the ones putting out the profitable jobs,” Randal muses. “Could work as an excuse.”

“Well my appetite for Ul’dahn jobs has officially become non-existent,” Sela declares firmly, glaring pointedly in Loetstymm’s direction. He wants to rebuke her for insubordination and to emphasize that it is not his fault that Ul’dah’s population is made up of Dunesfolk - they founded the bleeding place.

“You’ve never liked Ul’dah, Aliapoh,” Malena’s voice huffs out in a laugh over linkpearl.

“Cece head back to the company house. Make it incredibly awkward for anyone who wants to look for our friend there.” Loetstwynn says as he puzzles out the logistics of the Quills relocation to Ishgard. They can’t completely abandon their presence in the rest of Eorzea. They’re well known enough that their disappearance would be noted and deemed suspicious.

He wonders if he’s got enough standing in the Maelstrom to get Merlwyb to write them some bullshite license or some bogus diplomacy mission to keep their youngest member safe. T’chev probably had enough standing with the Rogues’ Guild that he’d be able to get something official-like or close enough to excuse their entry into Coerthas. Malena could probably bullshit her way through. With the Dragonsong war and all, Ishgard had to be hurting for healers of any sort. 

“Ishgard? Why would we want to go there?! The Blades don’t have jurisdiction in La Noscea,” Sela remarks. “And surely the Admiral knows that Moxi is-”

“Blades don’t but the Braves will,” T’chev’s voice crackles in over the linkpearl, weak and tired. “Our little lizard’s out of the city, as is Leveilleur.”  
This is not good. The Mi’qote sounds exhausted and that is never a good sign amongst Loetstymm’s crew. One thing the Quills have over the rest of the competition - besides the whole untemperable eikon slayer amongst them - was that the rest of the crew was not only incredibly good looking, skilled and hardy, but that they were _also_ untemperable.

“T’chev where in the seven hells are you?” he demands angrily as he pulls his pack onto his shoulders as Randal and Sela prepare to teleport.

“I’m fine Greenie,” the rogue tries brushing him off, but Loetstymm is not to be deterred. His friend has most definitely been over using the Echo. Out of all of the Quills T’chev had the strongest Echo amongst those of them that weren’t the Warrior of Light. His manifestation allowed him the almost preternatural combat ability that Moxi had and the ability to see through the eyes of other beings with the Echo. Well that second part was a theory - T’chev mostly ended up seeing things through Moxi’s eyes in real time.  
“No you lying bastard, you are not fine. Where. Are. You.” he growls as he switches channels to one just between him and his First Mate. 

His oldest friend is silent on the linkpearl for a long moment before exhaling heavily. 

“They’re gone. All of them,” T’chev says quietly. “They stayed back to let her escape the city.” 

Seven hells...

“Most of the others are safe, but Paplymo, Yda, Thancred, Y’shtola and the Antecedent. They’re…”

“Where are you, Chev?” Loetstymm repeats himself, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. There are some days he regrets the day he was nominated Captain of the Quills - but it’s days like this that he remembers why it was him that was chosen. He’s not the oldest or most experienced, but he is the most level-headed out of them all, the one who stood steady when the world quite literally was crashing down around their ears. 

It’s days like this that he remembers why he was nominated and why he really, really really regrets accepting the nomination.

“Llymlaen’s tits,” he curses as he throws a sack of coin at the aetheryte attendant as he storms through Mor Dhona. What few crowds there are disperse at the sight of a big angry Roegadyn man stomping his way through the plaza. He spots a few of the Crystal Braves eying him warily, though he notes that they seem supremely uncomfortable, what with the harsh glares they’re receiving from the Doman refugees and the other adventurer inhabitants of Mor Dhona. The Rising Stones is likely abandoned, and based off of the angry mutterings, the Scions who had resided there had made their escapes.  
Loetstymm exchanges a quick glance with one of the Domans who simply nods and jerks his head towards the crystal craters outside of town. 

“He couldn’t have picked a better spot?” he grumbles to himself, as he brings the Maelstrom company chocobo whistle to his lips. A great big green-feathered chocobo comes rushing from somewhere by the Rising Stone’s chocobo stables and nearly bowls him over.  
“Twelve damn it,” he laughs. “Of course it’d be you,” as he pulls a bunch of gysahl greens and shoves it in his chocobo’s face. 

Twenty minutes and an axe buried in a very unfortunate Crystal Brave’s skull later, Loetstymm has T’chev Tia thrown over his chocobo and the two of them are making the long trek up to Camp Dragonhead.

“You the one who got the folks in Mor Dhona all riled up at the Braves?” he asks the blonde Mi’qote.  
T’chev snorts dismissively at that. “Didn’t need to. The moment they started rushing about calling for our little lizard’s head the Domans damn near ran them all out of town. Bought those still in the Stones time to make a break for it.”

“And you played bait so that the civvies wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Cactpot, Captain!” the Seeker laughs briefly, grinning widely before it turns into a groan and grimace of pain.

“Idiot.” Loetstymm snorts.

“You hear from Mox?” T’chev asks after a long moment as he pulls a thick blanket around himself from the pack as the weather takes a turn for the positively frosty as they approach Coerthas.

“She made it to Camp Dragonhead,” Loetstymm says. “Randal says she’s surprisingly okay. Which really, doesn’t say much of anything.” 

“Alphinaud’s there. She’s got to be all dependable and shit,” T’chev sighs. “Who else went north?”

“Sela, Randal and Mally. Cece’s watching the house,” he adds with a chuckle.

That bit of news sends T’chev into hysterics that quite nearly send him toppling off of the chocobo. The Lalafell was not exactly happy with that order, but she’d follow it and follow it damn well.  
Any Braves trying to get near the house would be met with a very angry woman with a gun and a mouth that could make even the most hardened sailor blush. 

The next few minutes are spent with Loetstymm desperately casting physick and forcing healing potions into Eorzea’s second worst patient alive. Loetstymm ends up having to tie the idiot to the chocobo as he turns what would normally be a day's journey into four hours.

Loetstymm and T’chev are met at the gates of Camp Dragonhead by a frantic Malena who’s been fidgeting with her staff so much that she looks like she’s near ready to snap it in half.

“YOU!” The moment she lays eyes on T’chev’s sorry state she’s a blur in action, bodily hauling the Mi’qote off of Loetstymm’s chocobo and is carrying him like a sack of potatoes over her shoulder towards the camp’s infirmary. “By the spirits what were you thinking?” Loetstymm can hear her chiding the company rogue, who’s making exaggerated exclamations of pain and suffering, trying to downplay the extent of his injuries. Malena is having none of it and it’s not long before the two of them are out of sight.

“So how bad was it?” Randal has sidled up next to him looking worn and haggard. His vibrant red hair a stark contrast to how pale he looks.  
Loetstymm gives him the rundown of the situation. Two of their number are pretty much banned from Mor Dhona, what with Loetstymm having buried an axe in one of the Crystal Braves’ skulls and T’chev having done something to have warranted the way they had been trying to kill him. Their activities would have to be limited to Coerthas for the foreseeable future.

“Wait what the hell did he do?”

“Who knows. Anyway, where’s our little lizard?”

He wasn’t sure what to expect of the young Xaela woman when he found her. He knows her mostly as the tiny quiet, scaled girl who barely spoke that T’chev introduced to him one day.  
Moxi is what he called the dark-scaled horned girl. Was a ship navigator on some foreign vessel, looking for a new start in Limsa. Quiet is what he remembers of her back then. Delicate and soft spoken. Her small, thin Auri frame added a sense of fragility to her and the arcanist tome at her hip suggested a bookish nature. As he grew to knew her and her freakishly large aether reserves and combat aptitude for near any and every weapon she laid hands on, Loetstymm found her to be a gentle soul as she focused primarily on healing.  
Finding her cursing profusely while smashing a training dummy into splinters with a sword was - unsettling to say the least.

“Captain!” she stops what she’s doing and turns to face him, the sword being held behind her back as if she was trying to hide it. She pauses for a moment as if realizing that what she was doing was stupid and simply held the sword at her side. 

“I’d ask if you were alright,” Loetstymm starts off as he steps forward to look at her handiwork. “But I think we both know the answer to that question.” The training dummy has definitely seen better days, he glances over to the side and notes the other destroyed mannequins and sighs.  
“I’ve got a rough idea of what happened from T’chev,” he says as he picks up one of the splinters and inspects it. Could work as kindling he supposes. “And Cece has gotten some more information from the Admiral. But I want to hear it from you.”

The story comes out in halting stammers at first, and then it’s a flood of words and angry snarls. For a moment Loetstymm can almost agree with Sela Aliapoh’s vehement hatred of Ul’dahn Lalafells - well Lalafells in general - but had the Bull of Ala Mhigo not dealt with the man himself, Loetstymm would love to introduce the belated Teledji Adeledji to the sharp side of his axe. Maybe if he gets the chance Lord Lolorito could be introduced to the business end of Bravura.  
He listens in silence, letting Moxi get the words out. It’s more he’s ever heard her talk in the time he’s known her, but he lets her talk and he just listens.  
When she’s done he claps her on the shoulder, and points at the mess she’s made out of the training mannequins.

“Well first things first, if you’re going to use a sword like an axe, I suggest you get a bigger one,” he says calmly. “Second, clean this mess up.”

“What?” the Warrior of Light blurts out incredulously. 

“You make a mess you clean it up,” he continues. “It’s only common sense. You’ve made a right mess of Lord Greystone’s courtyard.”

“I don’t think Haurchefant will-” she starts.

“Which brings me to the third thing on the list,” he plows on, blithely ignoring the Xaela girl’s protests. “Both of our Mi’qote crew members have explicitly stated that you are not to be alone with the lord of Camp Dragonhead. Sela would like you to know that you are to inform her the second he gets handsy, and T’chev wants me to tell you that he has called ‘dibs’.”

“It’s not like that at all!” the Xaela girl screeches, her face flushing scarlet in embarrassment. Which frankly, is a much better look for her than the one of dark murder she had worn while narrating the events of the summit.  
Loetstymm fixes her with a stern look, which she meets with her own indignant one. The two of them stare at eachother for a moment before Loetstymm puts one of his hands on the much smaller Auri woman’s head. He doesn’t say that everything will be alright. There’s no guarantee that it will all work out and Loetstymm has never believed in empty platitudes and false reassurances.  
He ruffles her hair before pointing at the stack of slowly dampening wood.

“I gave you a job to do, adventurer,” he says sternly. The look she gives him is one that needs to be preserved in a painting for all eternity and he successfully manages to keep himself from collapsing into unrestrained laughter. 

“Aye aye, Captain.” she grits out from behind her teeth before stomping over towards the pile of wood and sets to work.


	2. Chapter 2

Ishgard was not a place that Malena Strongfist thought she’d ever end up visiting. Ishgard was known for few things, and chief among them was that it was easily summed up in the word ‘inhospitable’. Wildwood Elezens had always had a bit of a reputation for being a stuck-up lot, a reputation that seemed well deserved when Malena had first arrived in Gridania - but she had been told by others that the Gridanians had nothing on their Ishgardian cousins.

  
Ishgardian inhospitality was an art form according to a Limsan pirate Captain who did not care to divulge how exactly he knew of it. The climate change since the Calamity had helped even more so in propagating the stereotype of the icy cold, holier than thou Ishgardian.

The closed border and fanaticism helped in keeping the tourists away.

  
The dragons did an even better job of it.

  
“Remind me why we’re here?” Malena asks as she flings an Aero spell at the oncoming aevis and summoning a jet of water to blast the creature away before ducking behind Roland and his very sturdy armour.

  
“Lalafells,” Sela spits as she peeks out from behind their paladin to cast a large fire spell at three aevis before sliding back out of sight.

  
“No, more specifically I mean,” she clarifies as she throws a regenerative spell at Roland.

  
Malena’s been trying for the past few minutes to put together the sequence of events that has them here at the Observatorium, hiding behind a rapidly breaking wall and a paladin, lobbing spells at an oncoming horde of aevis. She remembers something about important documents needed in Dragonhead. She recalls Lord Haurchefant’s assistant mentioning something about work and odd jobs that needed to be done out and about the Coerthan highlands. The Ixal were acting up and they did kind of owe House Fortemps some favours, so the Captain and T’chev who had been going stir-crazy decided to go off towards Xelphatol to take a gander about the place.

  
It didn’t make sense for a large group to go off as a scouting party, so the three of them went off to deal with other small jobs. Moxi stayed back in Camp Dragonhead, not allowed to participate in any of these small excursions - she needed to sort out her head, especially after last night’s episode when she’d slapped a goblet of wine out of Roland’s hands.  
The captain had the Warrior of Light - slayer of primals, saviour of Eorzea, Garlean bane - sitting in a corner sewing jackets and coats for the camp in the main hall under Lord Haurchefant’s enthusiastic supervision.

  
“Haha, it sounds like we got conned into leaving Moxi alone with Ser Haurchefant,” Randal laughs good naturedly as he swats an aevis’ lunge aside and promptly behead the creature.

  
Their red-headed paladin didn’t seem to notice the way Sela tensed up at those words, but he did notice enough in the shift of the aether around them to drop to the ground as the Mi’qote thaumaturge let loose with a Flare spell, incinerating the aevis in front of them. Malena had managed to duck behind their crumbling wall and shield herself from some of the debris.

  
“What.” the Mi’qote woman says softly. The look on Sela Aliapoh’s face is the one she usually reserves for the Coco brothers whenever business brings them to the Ossuary.  
“We’re heading back to Dragonhead. Right now.”

  
“Uhhh,” Randal vocalizes succinctly gesturing towards the still rather sizable group of aevis charging at them.

  
“They can deal with them,” Sela snaps waving an arm in the direction of the thoroughly thrashed knights of House Fortemps and Haillenarte.  
Randal and Malena exchange glances with each other. Sela’s protectiveness of the younger Au Ra girl was sweet - usually.

  
However, since entering Camp Dragonhead and seeing the way the Silver Fuller fawned over their youngest company member, a mostly violent protective streak had appeared. It wasn’t that Ser Haurchefant Greystone was a man of ill repute. Far from it. He seemed a decent sort - reasonable, and their little lizard trusted him. Then again Moxi did have a distressingly low bar for what she considered ‘a decent sort’ - she had trusted that snake Laurentius after all.

  
Malena understood that the Auri girl reminded Sela of her younger sisters, cousins and other relatives of her overly large family. After what had happened in Ul’dah all of them were feeling a bit protective of the eikon slayer - which was funny and sweet in its own way - but it wouldn’t do for the Quills to alienate their host simply because Sela was….Sela.

  
Randal had that dumb look on his face that he got whenever he was confronted with a problem he did not know how to solve.  
“It takes more than an hour to get to to Camp Dragonhead from here.” is what comes out of his mouth, which if he had left it at that things would probably have been fine. Aliapoh could be redirected and they’d get the job done and return after a quick meal.

  
But Randal being his idiotic self blathered on.

  
“If his lordship was even the sort to do something, an hour is more than enough time to-”

  
Predictably about an hour and a little bit later, the three of them are bursting through the gates of Camp Dragonhead. Malena has Randal tossed over the side of a chocobo, casting the occasional cure spell his way to deal with the slightly burnt smell that’s coming off of him. The man was blessed by the Twelve when it came to surviving any and all fire-related disasters - from the fires of Ifrit’s inferno to Sela throwing fireballs at him in a fit of pique.

  
Sela makes a beeline straight to the main building where they’d left Kahkol angrily patching coats, pushing past the Captain without so much as a word. Captain Fhrubryt watches her go, takes one look at Randal’s sorry state and sighs.

“Job’s done Captain,” she informs the Sea Wolf who simply looks at her and nods tiredly.

  
The man looks positively dreadful and it takes a lot of self control to not start throwing curative spells at him - though not even a benediction would fix those bags under his eyes.

  
“Is everything all right?” she asks.

  
Captain Loetstymm Fhrubryt simply shrugs at that.  
“Lord Greystone’s managed to secure our little lizard passage into Ishgard proper.”

  
That was good news. The sooner Moxi was not within reach of the Crystal Braves and the Monetarists the better - but then why did the Captain look so tired?

  
“It’s the rest of us that’s the issue. Apparently that one,” he says jerking his chin at their slightly singed paladin. “Is persona non grata in Ishgard proper.”

  
Malena sighed heavily. Great. Randal’s many storied past coming to haunt them again.

  
“I did think they were staring an awful lot at us on the Steps of Faith, but I thought it was because of Moxi,” Malena admits as she rubs her brow trying to remember more.

  
“Aye, but desperate times call for desperate measures - and apparently House Dzemael is willing to overlook only so much. The Alliance's word means nothing to the High Houses of Ishgard.”

  
Malena’s brow rises at that. What in the seven hells had he done?

  
Randal Hooper had been part of the Quills long before Captain Fhrubryt had ever approached her at Quarrymill. From what she knew of the man he had been an adventurer for quite some time - a free paladin he called himself - and had been since before the Calamity. T’chev had mentioned that Hooper had been at Carteneau with them, but hadn’t joined up into the Quills until just a little bit after. Since joining the Quills Malena has learned a few key things about the man.

  
The man is an incorrigible flirt and serial womanizer. She had initially thought of him as dashing, until the first time T’chev brought her along to help drag Randal out of an Ul’dahn brothel. He is also incredibly resilient, capable of taking injuries that would cripple most, which given the number of drunken brawls, and fights he got into, he gave Moxi a run for her money in recovery speed.

  
He is also a man full of secrets - all of the Quills were.

  
Everyone had a past, everyone had their own story and the Captain did not care. If you pulled your weight and were true to the crew, he’d have your back.

  
“Head to Limsa tonight Randal,” the Captain instructs the semi-conscious paladin. “Take Sela with you. Meet up with Ceceli and have her port here. I need the two of you to keep an eye on things there.”

  
“Aliapoh won’t like it,” Hooper groans as he pushes himself off from the chocobo’s back rubbing his head.

  
“Captain’s orders. We need information - you and Aliapoh spent the least amount of time at the Rising Stones and with the Braves.”

  
Randal looks at the Captain for a long moment before nodding firmly. “ You do know Sela is going to murder me, right?” he adds on in an undertone.

“You’ll live,” Loetstymm Fhrubryt shrugs, before tossing the other man a sizeable coin purse. “And I distinctly remember her telling you to keep your hands off her sister.”

  
Malena decides instantly that this was a conversation that she did not need to hear about and makes her way to the main building.  
The stone keep hasn’t burst into flames and she can’t hear any screaming. Good signs all of them. So either Sela was quickly restrained or nothing had happened. 

  
She comes into Lord Greystone’s office to find Moxi dutifully mending coats as she had been instructed, with the Ishgardian knight seated at his desk speaking most animatedly with T’chev Tia, who had made himself quite at home right on top of the man’s desk.  
Sela was crouched next to the Xaela girl asking questions in a soft voice, and the growing look of irritation and the tinge of colour rising in the girl’s cheeks made it clear what sorts of questions Sela was asking.

  
Well clearly Sela had nothing to worry about, what with their company rogue doing his best to seduce the Lord of Camp Dragonhead - their little lizard’s virtue was perfectly safe.


	3. Chapter 3

It has been oddly quiet for the past few weeks. The Crystal Braves are keeping their distance, and the only news they’ve been getting back in La Noscea is mostly good news - besides the whole ‘Alphinaud and Tataru got themselves accused of heresy’ business and the new Quill recruit - Mitsu.

Mitsu is apparently not his actual name as he frequently and loudly protests over the linkpearl whenever it is brought up. His proper name is Mitsutake Yumishi and he’s a wandering minstrel from Doma, and if one listened to T’Chev Tia, perfection incarnate. 

Randal wonders exactly how many screws are missing in Mitsu’s head if they had found him in Ishgard of all places. Considering the treatment of the Auri in Ishgard it was a miracle that Moxi was being treated so well - though anyone stupid enough to try and accuse the Warrior of Light of heresy in Haurchefant’s presence would learn a very painful lesson - those who were stupid enough to try and kill her would learn a very fatal one.

The free company house in the Mists is not a large building by any means, though it is as good a home as any. It’s not exactly spacious given the sheer volume of equipment, supplies and gear they have as a group, but it is comfortably furnished. Just a little messy.

He steps into the company meeting room where Ceceli is sitting reading the latest edition of the Mythril Eye, two steaming cups of tea on the table alongside a light breakfast.  
“Morning Cece,” he greets her as he sets down the day’s requests and mail on the table.  
“Morning Randal,” the Lalafell says. “Any news from the Captain?”  
“Some. We’ll be able to relocate somewhat to Ishgard in the next little bit. Cap’n says Moxi got House Fortemps to let me in.” 

He would pay good gil to see the look on Gibert de Dzemael’s face at Randal Hooper walking into Foundation- more gil in fact to be able to smash the pompous bastard’s nose in again.  
Cece makes a non-committal noise at that as she sips at her tea.  
They sit in an amiable silence as Randal sorts the mail and Cece drinks her tea.

“Anything from Ishgard?” Cece asks, her tone deceptively light as she looks over her newspaper. 

“Not particularly,” he says as he brings a teacup to his lips, perusing the stack of hunting bills that he picked up this morning. 

“Well, I heard the most fascinating story about our Warrior of Light,” Cece remarks. 

“Oh. What was she doing?” Undoubtedly saving small children and smiting primals more likely than not.  
This one looked promising, a rogue paissa in the Sea of Clouds - he wonders if Malena would be amenable to accompanying him for that one once he was allowed to set foot in Abalathia again.

“Screaming at a Maelstrom officer and threatening to butcher a merchant, are you sure nothing has happened in Ishgard?” Cece asks, her crimson eyes flashing dangerously. 

Randal feels distinctly like he’s about to step into some sort of trap, as he smoothly places the cup back on the table without taking a sip.  
“Uhhhhhh…” is the intelligent word that comes out of his mouth. Their little lizard had been acting - not oddly, but rather less restrained. Angrier for sure - more vocal. Where she would simply glare heatedly with clenched fists and a held tongue, she was decidedly more likely to spit in someone’s face. 

T’Chev had said she was a spitfire when he had introduced the girl to the rest of them. Randal had not seen any evidence of that whatsoever in his entire acquaintance with her. The most he’d get out of her was a stoic nod, occasionally a timid yes or no, and an odd furtive glance. Spitfire was not the word he would have used to describe her. 

She had put down the arcanist tomes and picked up a two-handed claymore, donned plate armour and apparently could throw down with the best of them. Beating the ever living tar out of two of the Heavensward as Tataru’s Champion, cemented the fact that their little lizard was a very talented fighter. And apparently had a mouth on her.

Moxi was a little frayed at the edges some would say - stressed, was what the Captain had said. A hair's breadth away from snapping and killing whoever annoys her, was what Malena had told him.  
Part of it was probably having horns and scales in a city state that had been known to butcher Auri refugees for fear of them being heretics, part of it was the Brume and the injustice that permeates throughout all of Ishgard and part of it was probably the whole Ul’Dah business. 

The look Cece gives him is like seventeen knives to the gut. 

“Randal.”

“She’s coping,” is what he decides to say. “T’Chev says she barely sleeps. If she’s not running around Ishgard trying to solve their problems and the Dragonsong War, she’s porting across all of Eorzea on her own doing Twelve knows what - threatening to butcher merchants apparently. Captain tried ordering her to rest - it didn’t go well.”

They had apparently tried locking her in a room in Lord Fortemps manor and Malena had even tried throwing a sleeping spell at her - that had worked for all of thirty seconds before some dumb soldier, a messenger from some other High House and a moogle had come barging in demanding to speak with the Warrior of Light.  
Cece sighs. 

“That doesn’t sound like she’s coping well at all.”

Well of course she wasn’t. What their little lizard girl needed was a six-month vacation at Costa Del Sol without a linkpearl and no access to an aethernet. 

“The merchant was apparently quite a piece of work, but she…” Cece sighed. “Per the Maelstrom officer she said things that were rather disturbing.”

Now that sent a shiver down Randal’s spine. Malena had mentioned that Kahkol had started becoming more vocal, which wasn’t a bad thing given that before all of this the girl barely spoke more than three words a month - but the Quill’s conjurer had said that their little lizard seemed to occasionally talk to herself.

“Like what exactly?” he asked a pit of dread forming in his stomach. 

“She may or may not have said she should have left all of Limsa to be destroyed by Leviathan.”

A somber silence filled the meeting room.

“That’s very much not like her at all,” Randal eventually manages to say breaking the silence.

“No. It’s not.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun times in the Dravanian Forelands - why Coerthas and Abalathia are not the number one date spots in Eorzea.

The Quills are an absolutely delightful group, Mitsutake Yumishi marvels as he watches the adventurer party move about the Forgotten Knight. He’s only known them for little more than a week, but they have certainly made an impression.  
The wandering minstrel had thought his substantial luck had run out when two drunk Temple Knights decided to take offense to his scaled and horned existence. Most in the bar had turned a blind eye, the angry armoured Xaela by the fireplace had been restrained by the young girl he was shielding with his much bigger bulk as the accusations of heresy and words like dragon spawn were being spat out.  
Mitsutake had been fairly certain he was going to be dragged from the Inn and summarily executed and dumped in the Brume, when his very unlikely saviour swanned into the bar.

Well the young Xaela girl had not so much swanned in as swiftly introduced her armoured fist to one Temple Knight’s face.

When the Temple Knights protested the interference, they found themselves being the ones literally booted into the Brume.

Not one to ever turn down a show, Mitsutake had followed as he watched the diminutive Xaela girl beat the two much larger knights down.

The noise of course brought attention, which was when the Quills spilled out of the woodwork.  
A blond Mi’qote materialized from the shadows like a shinobi to restrain the girl, while a very large Sea Wolf came out barking for the girl to stand down, while a Hyur conjurer moved forward to tend to the wounded knights.  
It promptly came out that Mitsutake’s saviour was one of their adventurer company - who happened to be the Warrior of Light - slayer of gods and Garleans - and late for a meeting with Ser Aymeric, Lord Commander of the Temple Knights.  
That had turned his tormentors an astonishing shade of white and they promptly beat a hasty retreat from the frigid alley.

A round of drinks on Mitsutake’s coin and the next thing he knew he was a member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.  
Well, more specifically an affiliate - the Roegadyn, Captain Fhrubryt stressed, which is how Mitsutake gets the best story he’s had in years. The Quills have been the greatest thing that’s happened to him in years, as the Mi’qote scoundrel put it eloquently: ‘Weird shit happens to us’.  
The Captain and the First Mate had been pirates - _Not pirates! We were totally pirates Cap_ \- that through a mind-boggling series of events ended up at Carteneau, and through an even more confusing happenstance survived the Calamity. T’Chev had promised to tell him the story, which he was very much looking forward to.  
The other crew members included a free paladin with the epithet of ‘The Red’ who was apparently banned from Ishgard following a disagreement he had with House Dzemael, an Ala Mhigan refugee conjurer who Mitsutake suspected was nobility of some sort, an Ul’dahn rival pirate turned friend and a moderately insane thaumaturge.  
He had yet to meet Randal, Ceceli and Sela as they were apparently keeping an eye on things in La Noscea. And now he was sitting at a table with a song come to life.

“So,” he says to the Warrior of Light who is mostly just pushing her food around on her plate. He does not blame her, Ishgardian cuisine does not quite suit his own palate. The food at the Forgotten Knight is good, but Mitsutake thinks that he would in fact kill a man for dango. 

“Moxi isn’t your real name, is it?” he remarks. It is something that was picking at his curiosity the moment he heard the Warrior of Light’s surname. A Kahkol so far away from the Steppe - and not a refugee from what he had heard from T’Chev. 

“It’s what I’m called.” the girl answers warily. 

“But it’s a nickname.” he says. “T’Chev told me you sailed from Doma.”

“Hingashi - Moxi is what the crews called me. It’s as good a name as any,” the Xaela girl corrects firmly and Mitsutake decides to drop the subject of her name. 

“I sailed from Hingashi myself,” Mitsutake says conversationally. “But I’ve travelled over most of Othard. I met a Kahkol in Reunion.”  
The girl’s eyes flicked at him momentarily before angrily stabbing a fork into her food and putting it in her mouth.  
She did not want to talk about the Steppe it seemed. Or much at all it seemed.

“Huh, so what on earth possessed you to come to Ishgard of all places?” Malena Strongfist asks as she set her tray of food down at their table.

“Well that’s actually a bit of a funny story,” Mitsutake grins, picking a little at the scales on his face. “A sailor spoke of a Dragonsong - a song that has been sung for over a thousand years.”  
And like a single-minded fool he had booked passage to Eorzea and made his way to Ishgard. Looking back on his trip, it was somewhat of a miracle that he had not died.

“Neglected to mention that it was a War, did he? Typical sailor.” Malena laughed.

"Oh no, he most likely did mention it - I might have missed him saying it though," Mitsutake laughs a little at himself.

“There is a song,” T’Chev smirks, sliding right in next to Mitsutake - despite there being a good chunk of table being free. “Ain’t that right Mox?”

The Xaela girl nodded. “Not sure if it’s dragons or the Gnath, but there’s music in the Dravanian Forelands near the Spine.”

“It’s probably both,” T’Chev says, throwing an arm around Mitsutake’s shoulders. “The prettier sounding one is the dragons. The buzzing is the bugmen.”

Eorzea’s Champion simply shrugs before pushing her unfinished food towards the Mi’qote.

“T’Chev’s got a better ear for this sort of thing, have him take you out to Tailfeather - I wouldn’t go past the Whilom though. The Gnath control that area.” the Xaela girl says disinterestedly before rising from the table.

The other free company members watch her concernedly.  
“Ship meeting at seventh bell Adventurer,” T’Chev says. “I know you think the Captain was joking about late-comers swabbing decks, but I can tell you that Greenie’s damn serious about it.”

That brought a dry smirk to the Warrior of Light’s face. “He’d need a ship for that.”

“He’d find one, just for you. You know that.”

The Xaela girl puts her greatsword across her back as she walks away, a lazy wave farewell as she set out into the frigid streets of Ishgard.  
T’Chev and Malena both let out huge sighs.  
“That could’ve gone worse,” Malena groans. “Do you know where she’s going?”

The blond Mi’qote sighs, picking up the girl’s abandoned fork and plate and promptly begins shoveling the half-eaten food into his face. 

Mitsutake has noticed that the Quills are rather protective of the Xaela girl. He had asked the Captain why they all worried so much about the Champion of Eorzea. She was a superlative warrior - to which the Captain had answered that it wasn’t her body they were worried about - but her heart. The events that had led to their visit to Ishgard were not fully known to the general public - but it had not been the best of circumstances that had brought them to Abalathia. The whole crew was tight-lipped about the exact circumstances, but it was understood that no one tried to take Moxi’s sword from her and she was free to do what she wished.

“I’m not a mind-reader Mal.” he says between mouthfuls. “And you know it don’t work like that. It’s not exactly something I can control. She’s probably headed to House Fortemps or Dragonhead. Haurchefant was called back to the fort. There's talk that Svara was spotted at the Steel Vigil.”  
Mitsutake hears the words but has no idea what any of them might mean.  
“So Mitsu,” the rogue says, turning to face him, a toothy grin spreading across his face. “How about I help you find that song of yours?”

-

Loetstymm’s not sure how he ended up in this situation. Well actually he does know exactly how and why he’s in this situation but the whole affair has a degree of confusion hanging over it.

Loetstymm’s not sure if he’s regretting bringing Mitsu aboard, it was safer for the Auri man with them. Their association with House Fortemps offered a degree of protection that the Raen bard didn’t have on his own - and the man was a crack shot with a bow and had an arm that could fling javelins harder than a dragoon. He could carry his weight and wasn’t too squeamish about dead bodies. Truth be told he was a great addition to the team.

It wasn’t the man’s fault that he happened to be exactly Chev’s type.

He was happy that his oldest friend had found love - or lust - again. It was a good thing that Chev was moving on, he reminded himself. Loetstymm could not recall a time in recent history since the Calamity that he’d heard Chev gush that much about a man’s ass. Oh he’d talked a bit about Lord Haurchefant’s, but that was more to get Moxi to blush and stammer than a true interest. 

He’d just forgotten how much of an idiot his best friend was when he was in love.

For some unfathomable reason, T’Chev and Mitsu had grabbed a pair of chocobos and took off towards Tailfeather on an adventure as Mitsu had decided to call it. Loetstymm could hear the ear waggle over the linkpearl and had to finish off his tankard before he could even begin thinking about how he was going to get the two of them back safely.  
Mitsu had called in somewhat of a panic three hours ago that they had been walking along the Whilom River - discussing something about a song and then the Mi’qote had grabbed his head and promptly dropped like a rock into the river. The Auri man had dove after him and the next thing he knew he’s carrying an unconscious man over his shoulder through the Smoldering Wastes and trying to hide from Gnath firedrones at the same time.

The bard could not exactly teleport back to Tailfeather much less Foundation with Chev lost in an Echo daze, and so Loetstymm as Captain of the Quills needed to escort them back. Somehow.

“This Mitsu is a bit of an idiot, isn’t he?” a familiar voice remarks with a laugh.

Loetstymm looks up from his seat, as Randal and Ceceli blink into existence from the aetheryte. 

“He fits right in, then,” Randal answers, grinning down at Cece.  
“When T’Chev said he was going to help Mitsu find his song, I didn’t think he actually meant ‘ _wander about the Dravanian wilderness_ ’.” Malena grumbles angrily, her hands gripping her staff twisting it much like how Loetstymm imagines her wringing T’Chev’s neck.

“What did you think he meant?” Cece asks a grin growing on her face, to which Malena blushes.

“Never mind that,” the Hyur woman huffs. “Whereto Captain?”

Loetstymm unfurls the map of the Forelands he’d gotten from one of the chocobokeep’s and motioned towards the south-western quadrant.

“Mitsu said he and Chev are in Gnath territory, which per the hunters is pretty much all of this. Now, we don’t know how far down the Whilom they went, so there’s a lot of ground to cover. The good folk here at Tailfeather are lending us some chocobos while we search for our wayward companions.” Loetstymm gestures to Chev’s chocobo that is pawing at the dirt angrily. “Cece you’re taking old Skittles here down the east side. Randal, you and Mal are going to check out the ruins near the Vath’s position. I'm going to edge along the dragon territory, in case they ended up on the other side."

“Why me Cap? Randal’s about T’Chev’s height, why do I have to deal with His Featheriness?” Cece demands, gesturing angrily at their First Mate’s prize chocobo.

“You’re the only one the feathery bastard is scared enough of to listen to.” Loetstymm says firmly.

With anyone who was not a tanned, blond Seeker of the Sun rogue named T’Chev Tia, Skittles the Chocobo was voidsent in feathery form. His heart as black as its plumage, the bird was a right pain in the ass to deal with. Skittles was the scion of a long line of bad-tempered Ishgardian black chocobos that had been gifted to the Maelstrom once upon a time, and was the nightmare of many a chocobokeep.  
Ceceli Celi had a strange relationship with the chocobo. The bird often went out of its way to try and annoy the Lalafell, who responded in kind.  
The former Sanguine Siren was blessed with the Echo - her particular manifestation of its powers of language had extended towards even animals, which led to angry arguments in the chocobo stables consisting of Cece hurling insults at the cantankerous bird as it squawked back its own - allegedly. 

His tone brooking no arguments, Loetstymm handed out maps and a stack of sparklers and glamour prisms. The Gnath apparently used smoke to ward off the dragons in their territory which occasionally made visibility poor.  
“Red for trouble, and use the blue if you find them. And use the damn mission channel,” he informs his crew firmly, with a pointed look at Randal.

“That was one time!” the paladin protests, to which both Cece, Malena and even Skittles stare at him.  
Loetstymm merely raises an eyebrow, to which the paladin promptly presses his linkpearl.

“Aye aye Captain,” he sighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite Loetstymm's best efforts, things do end up going to shit, through no action of his own. Mitsutake doesn't have a map and is actually kind of a dumbass, and ends up wandering WAAY too far into Loth Ast Gnath and Chev is still unconscious - the two end up getting saved by Hobo-Thancred, which starts a hilariously very one-sided rivalry between T'Chev and Thancred for Mitsutake's affection. (Thancred is unaware he is a corner of a weird not-really-a-love-triangle-its-more-like-a-line.)
> 
> I also head-canon that the primal background music is like something that the WoL or those with the Echo can hear, and the Tempered are like hypnotized by it.  
> Mitsutake does end up getting to hear the Dragonsong, but he ends up humming/singing Unbeding Steel for weeks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because someone needs to do it when you banish your primal slayer.

“No.”

“Sela.”

“I said: No.” The dusky skinned Keeper of the Moon levels a baleful glare in Malena’s direction.

“I don’t see you volunteering for this.” Sela remarks darkly. Of course Malena wanted nothing to do with this job. Their Gridanian Conjurer hated Little Ala Mhigo, absolutely refused to set foot in the damn place. And if Malena could turn down jobs that involved Ala Mhigo, Sela had the same right to refuse jobs that disagreed with her.

“Sela, you’re being ridiculous,” Malena says. “It’s a straightforward enough job. It doesn’t even involve the Ossuary!”

Sela feels all the hair on her body rise at that. Did Malena solely think that the only issues she had was with Ossuary? Or that it took part in Thanalan?

The linkpearl crackles to life and the voice of the Captain comes over the aether.

“ _Sela, Mal. What in the seven hells is taking so long?!_ ” Sela winces a little at the Captain’s tone.

“Everything’s fine Captain,” Malena answers him calmly, shooting Sela a look.

“ _Fine. FINE you say?!_ ” And now both women are wincing. The Captain is livid. “ _Need I remind you that the Amalj’aa are summoning a swivin’ PRIMAL?! I don’t give a damn about your issues with the Twelve-damned Ala Mhigans or your stupid prejudices. If I don’t hear that Ifrit is dust in half an hour -_ "

The Captain hasn’t gotten to what his exact threat would be, when a tired voice comes on over the linkpearl.

“ _What’s this about Ifrit?_ ” Moxi’s voice comes in over the linkpearl, hoarse and scratchy.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Go back to sleep,” Sela orders the girl firmly, which the stubborn Xaela girl ignores.

“ _I can be there in - mmf_!” The Xaela girl’s voice is cut off abruptly.

“ _That was Chev,_ ” The Captain explains before Sela can say anything. “ _Mitsu’s taken her linkpearl. Get. To. Work._ ”

The esteemed Warrior of Light was laid up in bed with a particularly nasty cold. It was her just reward for running about the Coerthan wilderness without a proper coat - and whatever it was that had happened at Whitebrim had tuckered the girl right out. Of course the world didn’t wait on the Warrior of Light, and the Amalj’aa certainly did not.

A small crystal caravan on its way to Ala Mhigo had been attacked by _mysterious_ forces, the merchants taken prisoner and now Ifrit was apparently being summoned. Again.  
The Immortal Flames had formally requested aid from Echo-blessed adventurers to deal with the primal threat. The Captain had had put their Free Company name down years ago as a contact for primals, and of course they were called.

They had always had a decent reputation as an adventurer group, had been even before the Calamity - they were almost a household name in La Noscea, and the Captain was well known as a reliable sort to the Adventurer’s Guild and Baderon. Since Moxi joined, they were one of the most sought-after adventurer groups when it came to dealing with primal situations.

Malena and Sela both trade identical looks of resignation.

If it would let Moxi get another hour of rest and keep her out of Thanalan, Sela supposed she could stomach rescuing a caravan of greedy Lalafell merchants. The silly girl would insist on saving every single one of the ungrateful, scheming miniature bastards. Sela had thought she would have learned that one could never trust a Lalafell after Ul’dah - but Moxi had always been a little naive.

“I suppose we’d best get to it,” Malena remarks tiredly, as she prepares to teleport.  
Sela nods, as she readies her own teleport spell.

This had better be worth it.

-0-

Loetstymm actually cannot blame Mally and Sela for the way this has turned out. Of course the merchants had lied about the contents of their caravan. There were rules to large crystal shipments travelling across Eorzea - guards cost gil you know. So of _course_ the caravan was eighty-five percent illegal.

Cece looks right set to shoot the shifty Hellsguard in the kneecaps to drop his face within spitting level and Loetstymm has half a mind to let her.

An Immortal Flames officer screams about how this man’s cost-cutting efforts has practically doomed all of Thanalan.

“Where’s the Warrior of Light?” the Hellsguard has the gall to demand, and Loetstymm has to bodily put himself between Cece and the man. “Send word to her and she can deal with it. She’s defeated the Lord of the Inferno before!”

“The Warrior of Light is one girl.” High Commander Swift storms over from where he has emerged from his office to put the fear of the Twelve into the merchant. “And she’s _not here_.” he practically snarls before turning to Loetstymm.

And given her behaviour over the past few weeks, more likely to behead the merchant than Ifrit, Loetstymm keeps that particular thought to himself.

“My apologies Captain, I have it that two of yours are at the scene.”

Loetstymm nods. He’d gotten a panicked, highly distorted transmission of outrage that there were a hell of a lot more crates than they had been told and the fiery bastard had just split himself into four.

_Help._

That had him leaving T’Chev in charge of the Ishgard situation, grabbing Ceceli and heading straight to Ul’dah and the Immortal Flames and then as soon as they were done here it was straight to the Bowl of Embers. “The two of us are going to be heading into the Bowl soon. Aliapoh reports that they managed to get three of the caravaners out.”

“The other four?” Swift asks though from his expression he already knows the answer. Loetstymm shakes his head, when a gunshot goes off and the merchant is on his knees and screaming.

“Cece!”

“Thal’s balls! You shot me!”

Ceceli Celi is shaking with anger as she has her handgonne pointed at the Hellsguard merchant’s head.

“If my friends are dead or as good as, you’re going to have a hell of a lot more to cry about you fuckin’ bastard.”

Loetstymm grabs Cece and bodily lifts her away from the merchant and trades a look with Commander Swift who nods him away.  
“You know him?” he asks her in a low voice, as he sets her on his shoulder as they leave the very uncomfortable stares of the Flames.

“Defiant Weasel.”

“What?”

“His name!” she hisses. Right. Hellsguard and their weird-ass names.

“His reputation is slightly better than shit, which is pretty good for Ul’dah. But shit is shit, and it all stinks. I know some of them lot who work for him.” she says quietly.

Loetstymm nods once. Right. If Cece’s friends were those who had been tempered, the weasel would be dealt with. But first there was a primal they needed to kill.

-0-

The Bowl is much like Loetstymm remembers it the first time. It is uncomfortably warm. Moreso as he’s parrying away the highly-illegal crystal powered Ifrit’s jaws with the flat of his axe, and rushing forward to slide between the beast’s legs to escape the rapidly heating ground beneath his feet.

He brings his axe up to block a furious swipe of the primal’s claws, as Ifrit spins about, knocking Loetstymm back towards the centre of their arena.

“He’s going to spew Cap!” Malena calls out helpfully, as she books it towards the edge of the flames, away from the rest of them.

Normally he would rather have the group’s conjurer a little closer, to ensure he was still in range of her healing arts, but Ifrit had spat something onto her that caused waves of heat to pulse off of Malena that could knock the rest of them off of their feet. Malena was fine with the help of the elementals and her regenerative spells, and she was working on dispelling whatever sort of hex it was, but getting knocked off your feet every so often was not helpful when it came to dodging a primal’s attacks, so she was keeping her distance from the other three.

He thinks they've got the fiery bastard on his last legs - given that he's almost out of his usual tricks. They managed to break the nails, and dispel his stupid afterimages or clones or whatever in the seven hells those fiery abominations were.

Just a little more.

Loetstymm lunges to his feet and swings Bravura up right into Ifrit’s leathery neck, forcing the primal’s jaws away from him , as Sela drops a pillar of ice onto the Lord of the Inferno’s back. He’s got Bravura wedged in deeply into the delicate underside of the monster’s neck.

Just one more good swing and they've got him.  
The pillar shatters sending frigid shards scattering into the air that reflect light prettily and wait a minute -

“MOVE IT OR LOSE IT FHRUBRYT!” he hears Cece yell, and he lets go of Bravura, and jumps back as a beam of light ricochets through the shards, piercing through the primal’s leathery hide.  
Clever move, he grins as Ifrit roars in pain. An explosion from Cece's wildfire skill on the creature’s left leg staggers the primal.

Not one to leave a chance to kick a monster while it was down untaken, Loetstymm charges forward and rams his considerable bulk towards Bravura, grabbing the handle and tugging as he goes vaulting over the primal’s head.  
He hears more than sees the tearing and ripping of flesh as he thinks he just beheaded the Lord of the Inferno.

Pushing himself to his feet, Loetstymm wipes the sweat from his brow and turns to the rapidly disappearing corpse.

“Huh. It worked.” he says, as Malena approaches, her staff glowing and he feels each and every cut and burn he sustained during the battle heal.

Cece tosses Malena an ether vial, which the conjurer promptly downs.

“You get Ifrit’s snot off?” Sela asks from the opposite end of the circle of fire.

“Yes. It dissipated once his head fell off.”

There’s a slight shift in the air as Sela materializes next to Loetstymm.

“Good. Don’t much fancy getting knocked into Miss Popoto over there again.”

Loetstymm brings a hand up for silence before Cece and Sela can get into another of their shouting matches in the middle of Amalj’aa territory.

“Right. Cece and Sela, report to Commander Swift that the job’s done. Mally and I will get the survivors home.”  
Loetstymm finds himself on the receiving end of two identical glares of indignant rage. Both women have opened their mouths to give him a piece of their minds.

“There’s a Weasel that needs taking care of, and you’re _actually a member of the Flames Sela_. You have paperwork.” he reminds the two.

“Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled: Duty Finder Mishaps - when you pick Extreme when you wanted Normal.
> 
> Sela is a part of the Immortal Flames, Malena is a Twin Adder and the rest of the group are Maelstrom members. Mitsutake has no idea what any of them are talking about, but mentions that the Maelstrom has the snazzier uniforms.  
> I honestly have no idea how to do action, but unlike in game, friendly fire does technically exist. So yeaaah.

**Author's Note:**

> The Quills:  
> The Warrior of Light – Moxi Kahkol – The Au Ra astrologian with navigational issues and a greatsword  
> The Roegadyn Warrior – Loetstymm Fhrubryt (aka Captain/Cap'n ; Greenie ; Axe-man ; Nerd) - Captain of the Quills  
> The Mi’qote Rogue – T’chev Tia - First Mate of the Quills  
> The Lalafellin Machinist – Ceceli Celi  
> The Highlander Conjurer – Malena Strongfist  
> The Midlander Paladin – Randal Hooper  
> The Mi’qote black mage – Sela Aliapoh


End file.
